Careless heart, heartless mutters
June 1, 2010
As threats go, this classic gem from child to parent resonates with unbridled resentment, rings of freedom untasted, hardships unendured. Heartache follows, “how did we get to this place in our relationship?” Remorse to some degree on either side, and sometimes the threat is carried out to the ultimate grief or relief of the parties involved.
As a stratagem, my brother fails to recognize that the construct relies on the premise that you’re holding the power to do that which your antagonist least desires.
This? Is not that.
I can only hope that it’s not an empty threat that, like the overgrown child he is, he will find a new abode and throw his knapsack over his shoulder and huff off.
My only regret, after these twelve years of his nonsense, abuse, manipulation, the recent 3-year-block of which seemed like to end in some tragic circumstance, is that I’ll not see his dog again. I can’t part dog from owner nor could I keep one of his breed at my new home. He’s one of the smartest, most well behaved dogs I’ve ever met. Ironically, I can’t worry about my brother’s welfare anymore, but I do worry about the dog ending up homeless. Our last fight shows he’s still got no clue about taking care of anyone, including his own dog.
Cold, yes, but his latest extended chance in a string of hundreds has led only to abuse: heated accusations that Mom is faking her illness, her falls, the depths of her mental decline, abusive language towards Dad, lying to me, his unrestrained use of resources he’s not contributed to in years. I simply cannot afford financially or emotionally to keep caring or enabling.
As reported by my dad, the latest hissy fit was catalyzed by my dad’s objection to Brat’s definition of cleaning: “moving everyone else’s furniture around” and “throwing away other people’s belongings.” Not throwing away your own trash, folding your own laundry, washing your own dishes, picking up after your own, oh no. None of those.
*smh* Good, then. For the first time, my parents have finally agreed that my life has been on hold because of their refusal to support my decision to cut him out and agree that it’s time for him to go. Perhaps, though it hurts to say it, I’ll soon have the good fortune to see my brother voluntarily exit from my life and, away from the constant shelter I had to provide, he’ll finally grow up.
It’s amazing the havoc that the people who are supposed to love us best can wreak on our lives. Hoping this situation resolves itself, one way or another. *hugs*
Good luck and I hope he leaves too. I’m not sure how far in the future you look, but what will your family do when you start your own someday?
I hope so, I really hope so. OTOH, glad the parents finally saw the light. It must be hard to see what you don’t want to see in your own offspring, even when it’s right in front of you.
I hope so. Sometimes, people really need a humungo smack in the head to bring them back to reality.
I hope that you are doing OK, though. Hang in there. *hugs*
Gosh, that’s really tough. Pretty clearly this guy was just not prepared to take on the responsibility you left when you had to move. It sounds like your parents will be better off to have him out of the house. You certainly can’t have him abusing them.
Which freeway overpass does he propose to live beneath? I worry that if he does leave, it’ll just open the door to some new drama. {sigh}
Good luck with this. I hope this alleviates your stress.
I’m glad to hear that your parents are finally coming around to agreeing with you. Good luck. I hope it all works out.
Thanks for your support, all.
@BFS: I think about that all the time. I’m always going to have to provide to some degree for them. Just a matter how and how much.
@eemusings: More than that, be able to commit to the right course of action.
@FaM: Don’t know and I’m not asking because frankly, if he’s fool enough to go, I’m not fool enough to stop him.